Sirius Black pt. 3 Third person: Sirius bounced down the stone steps leading to the grounds, his trusty broom slung over his shoulder and a grin plastered on his face. Today was absolutely perfect for some fun on the Pitch, what with the sun shinning bright in the clear sky and the heat accompanying it being pushed away by a pleasant breeze. Too perfect a day to be stuck inside studying or doing other such pointless nonsense he had decided. Though, he was sad to say he was on his lonesome. Remus was no doubt locked away with his nose buried in some tome bigger than his head, amazingly alive despite the thick, choking layers of dust that covered most of his favorite books and Sirius didn't even have to wonder where James was. Stalking Evans, probably, but Sirius didn't see the use in it. Wooing someone who would rather feed you to Blast-Ended Skrewts then be in the same room as you was a lost cause in his opinion. As for Peter, well...
He didn't know where the hell Peter was, and he didn't consider the whereabouts of the little blonde boy anything important.
Regardless of his friendless position, he bounded off towards the Pitch, needing an outlet for his pent up energy. After all, you cant leave a puppy inside to chase his tail all day when he could be outside playing. The poor thing would simply explode from lack of fun and Sirius was sure the other Gryffindors wouldn't like him too much if they were to find Sirius-chunks littering the common room. The thought was just too dismal and disgusting to even consider and he figured a few hours of smacking Bludgers around would put him at ease enough to head back to the Lions Den where he could pout and whine and paw at Remus until the boy would hand over his Transfiguration homework with loud sighs and disapproving looks. It was a cycle Sirius loved repeating.
With his head tilted upward, eyes closed against the sun by soaking up the rays for all he was worth, it didn't take him long to reach the storage shed(he could find it in his sleep, really), and after a quick swish and flick, he was inside searching amongst the old brooms and uniforms for the Quidditch chest. He really wasn't suppose to be borrowing the chest for outside practice, but he figured that as long as all the balls made it back into their proper places before he headed back for the castle, it didn't matter much. A small 'aha' followed after a grin as he located the weathered chest and heaved it out of the shed. After dragging the it out onto the green pitch, swift fingers opened the latched quickly and he mounted his broom with his bat in hand, kicking the two bludgers loose before taking off, eyes shining as he heard them whistling though the air after him.